ISN’T IT OBSCENE

 

Open the door to obscurity

Here you will find me all alone

Smoking a cigarette at the corner store

With a dim witted smile on my face

Unaided and possibly unwanted

I smell no afterlife

No Garden of Eden in sight

Only the aroma of half burned pictures

Empty boxes of chocolates from years past

I am a first class citizen of hell

There seems to be no relief

No pill to lift my spirit

No one to wrap my arms around

Only cold stares from frosty eyed ladies

Malicious glances from pregnant babies

Open the door to obscurity

And pull me the fuck out of here

Philip Jones is from Spokane, Washington. He’s 20 years old,  studying as an English Major.

Dance to Death, Issue VIII

©2008 Sorrowland Press and all respective artists within.